


Crazy On You

by Incog_Ninja



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Dean Winchester loves eating pussy, F/M, Kissing, Public Sex, Sex in the Impala, a lot of - Freeform, almost, on the impala, there's a knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 23:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Incog_Ninja
Summary: You've had a shitty day, but this beautiful, unfamiliar boy will make it all better.





	Crazy On You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.
> 
> This is set somewhere in s2.
> 
> Crazy On You is an old song by Heart. It's amazing and describes Dean so well, IMO.

It’s been one of those days – started off with your toes sunk into cat puke at 4:45 am, coffee maker overflowing at 5 am, your car battery dead under the hood when you tried to leave for work, and your key snapping off in the lock of the diner once you got there.

 

You desperately need to blow off some steam, so you push him against the rough brick wall with all you’ve got. He grunts in the cool night air, but the grin on his lips tells you he isn’t complaining. “What’re we doin’?” he asks, his eyes laughing and his tongue dancing just behind his bright white teeth as he rests his hands on your hips. You want to suck that teasing tongue into your mouth, so you yank him into you by the lapel of his leather jacket and rise to your tiptoes to kiss him.

 

“You’re a big boy,” you answer around lips and tongues and teeth. “M'sure you can figure it out.” You push your hands under the thin cotton of his t-shirt to get to his hot, bare skin. You want to touch him, feel him. The crackle of energy when your fingertips graze the smooth, flat of his belly shocks you to your core and you gasp. His grip on your hips tightens for a second then loosens again and you feel the muscles contract and tremble under your touch.

 

This guy – all swagger and cocksure attitude one second then coy smiles and cautious touches the next – is exactly what you need right now. You want this agonizingly beautiful, brash boy to sit pretty while you use his thick, hard body to work loose your frustrations and tensions from this crap day. And something tells you he’ll love every minute of being used.

 

You don’t even know his name. You didn’t ask and he didn’t offer it. The fact that you haven’t exchanged even the most essential of pleasantries puts a sharp edge on everything - and then he smooths over it with a soft, warm grin. You’ve never had an anonymous one-night-stand – it’s not easy to do in such a small town – but it’s always been a fantasy of yours and the time is now - with this boy.

 

He lets you kiss him, fervently pulling at his full, curved lips with yours, twisting your tongue with his. Your hands plane smooth skin stretched over muscle and bone. He’s got the kind of body that comes from hard labor, not a gym. You imagine that he puts his back into everything he does and the thought makes you shiver.

 

You start to second-guess your location choice because the back alley of Jake’s bar isn’t exactly the best place to get naked and you really want to see this guy naked. You emit a grunt of frustration as one of your hands drops to the waistband of his jeans, fingers hooking inside. He chuckles and you think he must be a mind reader. That arrogance is back in his tone. “Whatsamatter, princess?” He smirks down at you and you groan again, tugging at his belt.

 

“Smug asshole,” you mutter as you pull the leather from the buckle and pop his button open.

 

He laughs again and cups your jaw, dipping down to kiss you. When you get his zipper open and slip your hand inside his pants he sighs and pushes his hand into your hair, holding you steady to tongue fuck your mouth.

 

When you come up for air, you say, “guess you got a reason to be smug." You wrap your hand around his heavy length then pull his bottom lip between your teeth. Your nails sink into his muscled back just above the waist of his boxers as you squeeze his cock in your hand and his soft, pretty eyes flare.

 

He slumps against the wall, bending one knee and pushing it between your legs, so you can ride the solid length of his thigh. He holds your head in his hand as he kisses you and slides his other hand up the outside of your thigh and under your skirt, the cool, heavy silver ring on his right hand seering your skin as it goes. “Tell me what you want,” he says, lightly stroking your heated skin and licking your lips. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your cheek.

 

“Your fingers… inside,” you breathe into his kiss and he drags his hand across your hip to push two fingers inside the leg of your satin thong. For a few moments, he just strokes your trimmed curls with his knuckles as he kisses you deep and slow. Then he twists his wrist and his fingertips slide along your wet slit. His hands are rough but his touch is so gentle and when he pushes his long middle finger inside you and twists, you moan and squeeze him harder in your hand.

 

He hums into your mouth, pushing another finger in to join the first and swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” he asks, his voice is so soft but it’s deep and you imagine yourself diving into it, swimming around.

 

“More,” you beg, grinding down onto his hand and thigh. He presses his lips to your throat, kissing and licking down the column. You want to slide forward, sink onto his cock, but then he presses his thumb over your clit and his fingers into the other side of that wall and they’re almost touching as he determinedly rubs and presses until, with a virtual snap of his fingers, you’re coming. “ _Holy shit_ ,” you gasp in surprise, and he covers your mouth with his to stifle your oncoming cries.

 

You’re whining and vibrating as he slows his movements to stop and gently cup your cunt with his big, warm hand. As he kisses you, he lets go small rumbles and sighs of satisfaction. You back off of his thigh and pull away from his mouth, his hand wet with you dragging from under your skirt, and you drop to your knees in front of him, taking him in your hand and holding his eyes with yours as you slowly lick his tip.

 

He scans the alley, breathing heavy then looks back down at you, watches you circle his head with your tongue as he slides his fingers slick with you into his mouth. He moans around them and you can see his tongue swirl as his eyes roll back and close. Before you can take him all the way into your mouth he hauls you to your feet.

 

“Nah,” he says, as he half-zips his pants. “This way.” He looks both ways and behind you both before twining your fingers with his and walking with purpose, a bounce in his step and a boyish grin on his lips. He’s so handsome, so _pretty_ , and you never knew you could have so much fun with a total stranger; it’s hard to believe that he’s even real.

 

His smile is like the sun when he raises your joined hands above your head and spins you like a ballerina three times before you land your ass against the trunk of a beautiful classic car. He kisses you as he lifts you by your waist to sit on the trunk, rests his hands on either side of your hips, and settles in.

 

“This’s my baby,” he whispers, trailing wet kisses from your lips over your chin and down. “She’ll treat us right.” His lips graze your throat and collarbones as he gently pushes you to lay back, hooks his hands under your knees, and moves between your legs. He’s kissing every sliver of exposed skin as he rests one knee on the bumper to duck his face between your thighs.

 

He swipes his tongue over the wet satin, drapes your legs over his shoulders, then pulls your thong aside before pushing his tongue into you. He moans and sucks at you. You’re so wet and you just came so hard on his fingers, you know you’re a mess but he’s literally eating it up.

 

He places one palm over your lower belly between your hipbones and slides a finger from his other hand inside you as he licks. “Mmm,” he moans, flicking his eyes up to meet yours. You watch as he languorously licks and sucks and fucks two fingers then three into your cunt – all while holding your eyes with the verdant heat of his own.

 

His tongue and lips are everywhere and you can hear him sucking your slick from you. “Come again like this and we’ll get in the car...” That voice is going to kill you; it’s warm and melodic, like a lullaby. He rumbles against your damp skin and you’re about to lose your mind from the sheer eroticism. “Get this little skirt off...” He pulls his fingers out of you to lightly rub your clit and push his tongue inside. “Get my dick inside you...” He switches his fingers and tongue again, so he can pull your clit between his lips. “Want that?” he asks between sucking and licking your clit, his eyes and tongue dancing playfully.

 

You definitely want that.

 

You nod, as his licentious gaze and large hand on your belly pin you in place. “Yeah,” you breathe, reaching to cup his jaw. His eyes close when he nuzzles into your palm with something like a purr rumbling in his chest.

 

After a brief quiet moment, he reopens his eyes and they’re on fire. He doubles his efforts, then, fucking you with his thick, warm tongue, lightly rolling your clit between the pad of his middle fingertip and his thumb. He presses down on your belly with his hand and covers your cunt with his whole mouth and sucks and you’re coming again.

 

Your back arches off the trunk and his necklace slams against the steel as he tries to hold you steady to tongue and suck you through your orgasm. You start to slide, and he braces his hands on either side of your hips, kissing you down from your high.

 

Once your breath has returned to relative normativity, he helps you to sit then stand on your wobbly legs. He kisses your mouth and you taste yourself mixed with the whiskey he was drinking back at Jake’s. “C’mon,” he breathes, that mischievous twinkle that sparked your curiosity, to begin with, is lighting in his pretty green eyes. “Let’s get naked.”

 

He yanks the back door open and ushers you inside. The smell of leather and gunpowder and iron fills your olfactory senses. You fleetingly notice that his car is incredibly tidy; then he has his hands on your shoulders, pushing your hair to the side and his soft, warm lips brush the nape of your neck.

 

“Everything okay?” he asks and you turn to face him. Genuine apprehension mars his beautiful features, so you grin wide to reassure him.

 

“Yes,” you answer with an enthusiastic nod, taking his face in your hands, smoothing his cheekbones with your thumbs and he blinks lazily, nestling into your palm again. He likes touching, obviously, but he also seems to like being touched. You now assume he wouldn’t let you suck him off in the alley simply for fear of being caught.

 

As he lightly clasps your hands in his and kisses the insides of your wrists, he returns your gaze. The shy boy is back and you are so thrown by his many faces and postures – all so delectable – all oddly attuned and seamless.

 

He releases your hands and slides his heavy leather jacket from his broad frame before chucking it over the front seat. He reaches for you and you climb astride him, immediately pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.

 

“Ugh, I’ve been wanting to do that for hours,” you say, running your hands across the expanse of his chest and shoulders as he slides his big hands up under your skirt.

 

“You super attached to this?” he asks, tracing your ruined thong with an impish grin. You laugh a little. “I mean, it’s trashed, let’s be honest.” He says with the most sincere expression that makes you giggle harder. “Might as well finish it off, am I right?”

 

You nod. “Do it, cowboy,” you say, rising to your knees to give him better access.

 

“Yank it or cut it?” he asks with a naughty little leer as he uses a single finger to rub along your slit over the sodden silk.

 

You almost come right then and there with the thought of him slicing your wet thong from your body. You can’t wait to see his knife. “Cut it,” your voice is hoarse and he chuckles, palming the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss, while simultaneously reaching under the back seat. What comes next makes your skin break into goosebumps.

 

The blade of the knife glints in the moonlight streaming through the back window. It's large and beautifully made - kind of like its owner. He licks his smiling lips as you kneel over him panting. “Get ridda the skirt, princess.”  

 

You unzip the side of your skirt then stand as best you can to shake it to the floorboard. He wraps one hand around the side of your waist as you hunch over him, stopping you from sinking back into his lap. He gazes up at you through his thick lashes then snags his bottom lip with his teeth as he slides the flat of the knife up under the hip of your thong.

 

The cold steel of the blade makes you shiver – or maybe it’s the fact that you’re half-naked in the backseat of a car with a knife-wielding stranger who’s almost twice your size.

 

He slowly slices through the fabric at each hip, holding your eyes with his. His tongue runs along a row of perfect white teeth as he snatches the silk and tosses it along with his discarded jacket before stashing the knife back under the seat.

 

“C’mere,” he beckons you back and you’ve never felt more wanted. The way he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters and like he actually  _needs_ you, makes you melt.

 

His pants are still only partly zipped, so it’d be easy enough to be on his dick in seconds. But you know you should be responsible. “D’you have any…” You look around the back seat like he’d have a dispenser or something. “Condoms?”

 

He shakes his head and your heart drops. “You’re not naked yet,” he says, motioning with his hands to let him at the clothes on the top half of your body. You giggle again and raise your hands over your head so he can pull your sweater up and off. Then comes your bra-cami and his eyes are fucking priceless when your braless tits bounce in front of him.

 

Before your camisole has hit the floor, he’s got his arms around you and a nipple in his mouth, licking, sucking. He slides a hand up your back into your hair and pulls you further into him so he can lavish you with wet, warm attention.

 

“Still wearin’ my shoes,” you whisper. You can slip them off, but you think he might like to do it for you.

 

He chuckles low in his chest. “My bad.” He shifts in the seat so he can lay your back on the cool leather. He pitches backward and his necklace and belt dangle and jangle under him, as he lifts your feet in his hands to remove your Chucks. He doesn’t bother unlacing them and once he’s slipped them off he tosses them in the back window.

 

“ _Now_  you’re naked,” he announces like it’s his proudest moment.

 

Your arms and legs are flailing slightly. You’re not sure what to do because he’s just hovering over you with one of those playful little smiles, stroking the skin of your thighs with his calloused fingertips. The blue light of the moon dips and rides the planes and curves of his smooth skin, and his jeans are so low on his hips that you can see the dark patch of curls leading right where you want to be.

 

“Hurry up,” you whine, the sound surprising even yourself. He laughs full and loud as he reaches his back pocket, pulls out his wallet then produces a condom.

 

“Just one, so let’s make it good,” he says, and you’re not sure if he’s kidding. You’ve never come more than once, if at all, in an encounter – let alone twice and counting.

 

“Okay, your turn,” you say, pointing at his jeans. “Off.”

 

He snorts a laugh and drops the condom packet to your belly then unzips and shoves his jeans down with his underwear, his hard length bobbing and weaving like a boxer. “Want the boots to go, too?” he asks, like an asshole.

 

You roll your eyes. “No, just-” You make a similar motion to his earlier, indicating that you really just want him to get on top of you.

 

He grins and drops over you, pushing your thighs open with his hips and planting his hands on the door behind your head. He drops in to kiss you, glancing down at the condom he discarded earlier. “What’re we waitin’ for?”

 

You scramble to retrieve the packet from where it lays on your ribcage, tear it open and pull the desired item from its confines. Meanwhile, he’s licking you everywhere he can reach. He likes licking, and you like that he likes it.

 

One of your legs is slung over one of his knees and he pushes the other up and out as you roll the condom over his cock. The hand braced behind your head on the door mostly supports his weight, but you definitely aren’t moving the thigh wrapped in his hand any time soon.

 

You guide him to where you’re wet and he catches your eye. As he pushes inside you, you can’t not stare at his face, his eyes, his jaw as it twitches and clenches; and then he groans and stills over you. “Relax, okay.” He touches his head to yours, breathing, soothing your thigh with his hand.

 

You didn’t realize that you’d clenched so tightly onto him. You don’t want this to be over, so you take a deep breath. “Sorry.”

 

He shakes his head then kisses you more. “No sorries,” he says, then he starts to move. The solid slide of him is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. “Open up, sweetheart,” he says, thrusting in and out, shallow then a little deeper as you allow, kissing your lips and our jaw. “I promise, I’ll make you feel so good.”

 

You gasp, suddenly overcome by emotion. You really don't know why he cares so much about making you feel good, but it makes you warm from your head to your toes. “You already have,” you whisper, trying to open yourself to him even more. Everything he’s doing feels so good. He feels so good – his lips and his skin and his hands and his whole fucking body against you, on top of you, and inside you. You want him to feel good too.

 

You lightly press your fingers over your clit and you can feel his hard length sliding just under your skin. Then he drops one foot to the floor of the car for leverage and starts to drive you harder and faster and your brain spirals. His fingertips dig into the armrest of the door and into the back of your thigh as he fucks you. “Please come,” he begs. “I need to feel you.” His face is a mix of pleasure and heartbreak and you've never seen anything quite like it. Your heart knows that what he's said is the God’s honest truth, too, so you press your clit harder and closer to his thrusts. You’re so wide open to him and he’s hammering you into his back seat when you start to come around him.

 

“Fuck me,” you sob.

 

“Yeah,” he replies, picking up his pace. “Fuckin’ take it.” He slams you hard through your orgasm, your sweat-damp skin slipping against the leather interior. You've never had anyone do what he's doing to you - not anything he's done, really. This has been a roller-coaster ride of sensation and emotion from the second your spotted him hustling pool. 

 

He's fucking you so hard, now, but there's nothing harsh about it; then he’s coming just as hard as he fucks with that rich, beautiful voice ringing around you. He swears out loud and releases your leg long enough to smack the door behind your head. As his thrusts slow he pitches backward again, pulling you with him, cradling your hips. When he finally pulls out of your body, he’s sitting on his boot, breathing heavy and loud, caressing your skin and gazing down at you in a way you’d describe as adoring if you thought a stranger could really adore another.

 

“How ya doin’?” he asks and you shift your weight. Your skin’s starting to cool in the humid air of the car. You see that the windows are fogged over with your breath and you guess that anyone who may have walked by outside surely got a show.

 

You shiver and nod. "Good," you say, wrapping your arms around yourself as you try to sit up.

 

“Oh,” he says, pulling up and fastening his jeans, leaving the belt undone and reaching over the front seat to dig around before joining you again with his jacket. “Here.” He wraps you in the leather when you sit up next to him. “Thirsty? I got a cooler of beer.”

 

“Sure,” you answer bringing your knees up under your chin and wrapping yourself entirely in his scent. The jacket smells like him and his car, and you already miss him.

 

He reaches for a small cooler on the floor. You remember seeing it earlier, now, but it seemed unimportant then. He twists a cap from one bottle and hands it to you and you take a sip. Before he gets his cap off of his beer, you hear gravel crunching under footsteps and a voice outside the car. “Dean?” It’s a male voice and he sounds a little desperate. “Dean... I’m sorry, but... Bobby called. We gotta go, dude.”

 

The boy next to you hangs his head with a heavy sigh before taking a deep breath and raising his head again and calling back to the voice. “A’right, Sammy,” he says pursing his lips. “Gimme a minute.” He turns his gaze to you and apologizes.

 

“It’s okay,” you say, reluctantly shrugging out of his jacket to search the floor for your clothes. You're still in a bit of a daze.

 

He drops his unopened beer back into the cooler and reaches for your shoes in the back window. You both work to get your clothes back in place and your belly flips and flutters with every brush of his fingers and small grunt of his voice. He haphazardly pulls his inside-out t-shirt over his head and there’s a moment where you just look at each other, his fuck-messed hair, gentle eyes, flushed cheeks, and full lips burning an image into your brain. “Need a ride home?” he asks, hopeful, and you shake your head.

 

Once you got your car jumped that morning, you drove to work. “My car’s around here somewhere.”

 

He nods and lays a hand on the door handle then takes one last longing look at you. “Ready?” The regret in his eyes claws at your heart, but you nod and scoot across the backseat. He pushes the door open and you follow him into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> *draws hearts around Glass Jacket and marksmanfem*


End file.
